


Gökotta

by Synchron



Series: All Things Evette [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, that's literally it lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27190411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synchron/pseuds/Synchron
Summary: Gökotta: to rise early in the mornings to listen to the birds; to be out in nature.
Relationships: Credo (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: All Things Evette [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984855
Kudos: 6





	Gökotta

**Author's Note:**

> This essentially arose from my doofy little HC where, due to Credo's Angelo form, he attracts wildlife (birds mostly) whenever he goes outside. 😌

Despite a lack of proper verbal communication, it’s surprisingly easy for Evette to pick up on the cues of Fortuna’s Guardian Angel. To her surprise, it wasn’t her (admittedly rather limited) knowledge of demonology that granted her this bounty of wisdom, but rather her experience in bird watching. Whatever the Angel really is, however he came to be, he borrows more from avians than mere feathers and wings; the curious tilts of his head; the indignant ruffling of his feathers (Evette gets the distinct feeling _that_ particular trait is unconscious); the molting; and most oddly pleasant of all, those deep, rumbling trills. And perhaps lending further to these tells and peeks into a carefully guarded personality, is how he’s willing to show these to her. Upon the battlefield, he is swift and graceful, but like this, atop a cliff within the Ancient Battle Grounds of Mitis Forest, he sits by her, shoulders relaxed and perfectly at ease, content with feeling the wind filter through his wing. **  
**

It’s almost a ritual between them now. An unspoken, yet mutually understood promise to meet up twice a week at this very spot. How this came to be, neither would be able to tell you, but they both settled into the routine with shocking ease. Almost as if meeting up with a ten foot tall demon - Fortuna’s very own cryptid - was _normal_. But then again, much of Evette’s life lay beyond the realm of conventional. What is all this, but another tale for her to tell in the future?

For some reason, the idea that he may one day exist to her in the past tense makes him a little sad.

He watches in silence as she weaves in and out of the shrubbery, somehow always managing to find something new to photograph. Sometimes it’s a hummingbird, sometimes a shy dormouse napping in the warm afternoon sun, but mostly, it’s scenery. Her ability to work with perspective and composition is astounding to behold, not that he’s ever made mention of this to her in this form. He knows that if he so much as says even a word to her, in that voice he knows she has memorised, she’ll discover who he really is. And so the most that Credo does whenever she waves her camera at him is cock his head and lean closer to the tiny screen, his tail swishing in an idle interest. Maybe it’s this gift of perspective, this ability to really see, that keeps her coming back to meet with him - who else but her would be so eager to meet and sit and talk so _animatedly_ to someone who can barely respond?

When she emerges from the underbrush, all manner of sticks and leaves in that unseemly mop of hair, she makes a startled noise, bracing both of her hands out in front of her as if to ward off a predator. Immediately, Credo is defensive, squaring his shoulders and lifting his head, seamlessly reverting to that dignified pressure he so effortlessly exudes. But Evette, with her eyes wide, desperately waves her hands at him before raising one to hold one finger over her lips.

_Don’t move_ , the gesture screams.

And so he doesn’t, immediately freezing in place. If Nero were to see him now, he would laugh and laugh until his stomach ached, and tears stung his eyes… and perhaps he’d have every right to. Seeing somebody normally so proud and authoritative bow their head to somebody quite literally half their size… Agnus would probably be furious that his glorious Ascension Ceremony had resulted in this pathetic exchange.

Luckily, Credo couldn’t care less for what Agnus would think.

Maybe deep down, he doesn’t care for what Nero makes of this either.

Isn’t his own happiness more important?

Evette takes great care in sneaking over to where Credo sits on the floor, almost to the point that it’s comical; walking on the very tips of her toes in exaggerated steps, as if the slightest disturbance will ruin the moment. She reaches for her camera, still dangling around her neck by that worn leather strap, and flicks it on. The lens whirrs to life, sliding out of its casing, and she holds it up to her face, adjusting her own height, the zoom, and snaps one picture.

Is she… taking pictures of him? Wasn’t this one of the boundaries that they’d set? When he lifts his head, letting loose a slow rumble, Evette silences him with a grave look, and another flailing of her hands in silent protest. Once again, he obeys. Once again, he doesn’t really know why. Behind him, perhaps in a gesture of defeat, Credo’s tail drops to the floor with a quiet, lifeless thump. She steps lightly over to him, camera still in hand, standing between his legs, and he notices for the first time that like this, she’s nearly face to face with him. The epiphany is lost on her however, because the camera is being raised once more as she rises up on the tips of her boots, snapping another set of pictures of… the top of his head?

What on earth is she–

Credo jolts when she suddenly drops the camera from her hands, letting it dangle freely from around her neck. She shuffles even closer now, the distance clearly only awkward for one member of the party; Credo tries to lean backwards, but as always, even back before they began meeting regularly, wherever he goes, she follows. Her hands lift, slowly and gently, up and up until she scoops something up from within the base of his upturned halo. She smiles down at it with a tenderness that typically hides behind her camera, and then shows it to him; a swallow, still a mere fledgling, that had nestled into the down upon Credo’s head. It chirps quietly, soft trills that speak to how it too, is completely at ease.

“The demons don’t like you much, but the fauna around here sure does, huh?” With the bird still in her hands, she plops herself down on his thigh, not noticing how he tenses underneath her weight. She thumbs gently at the tiny ball of downy fluff in her hands. “You’re a lucky guy, you know that? Wish I could get animals to like me this easily - would probably make all my expeditions out in the wild a little easier.”

Credo shakes his head. Whether he means to say that animals don’t like him, or whether animals don’t like _her_ , he isn’t sure.

This limited communication has its perks, Credo supposes, because moments where he isn’t certain exactly what he wishes to convey to her are an increasing occurrence.

A _worryingly_ increasing occurrence.

But as usual, Evette takes the liberty of filling in the other half of their conversations for him, and he realises that… maybe he just likes listening to her talk.

“Maybe they know they’re safe with you? You know, because you’re always there to protect them.”

His ears perk up a little at that, rather pleased that his efforts to protect the island are felt by all who inhabit it. Strange how this notion was never really present back when the Order was still Fortuna’s governing force. Strange how Fortuna is better without it.

“But you know what…” Credo turns his attention back to Evette, perched on his thigh, so casual and unafraid even though he looms so much higher over her. “I kinda think I get it.” She looks up, notices that the parents of the baby in her hands have now landed upon his shoulder, and smiles again; a deep and warm curve of her lips that creases the corners of her eyes. She shifts in Credo’s lap, raises both her hands, and the fledgling within it hops up to join its family.

“I feel safe when I’m with you too.”


End file.
